fragments

cerulean skies, palm trees swaying in the wind, all leafy green and spindly, warm sand that never gets too hot and saltwater that sticks to your skin as the sunscreen melts off and swirls in the ebb and flow of the waves. grenadine and sunshine and stretching my body toward the horizon at eight a.m., the sea breeze tickling pastel verandas as lazy days spent lying on a canopy bed drift past, wooden slats making the sun and shadows dance across me to a song only they know. reading Jack Kerouac and listening to LANY and wondering where it’s all going, all these bits and fragments that make up my life, that never seem to make sense until i turn around and look back and aha, there it is. hindsight is 20/20 but you can’t blame yourself for knowing things now that you didn’t then. so i run mad but never faint, feeling my core tighten while trying not to pinch myself in the wrong places. sometimes i want a cigarette even when i don’t need one – you never need one – and i don’t yet know the difference between learning from the past and carrying baggage i should’ve left behind. how do i protect myself without hurting someone else? i think a lot now about being alone but sometimes it’s lonely and i worry i’ll cave in the end; old habits die hard. how can it matter though, when there’s a great big world out there filled with adventures and experiences and growth, when i’m twenty and still have so much more living to do. i’ve taken eighteen flights this summer and i’m already dreaming of my next one, images of a green and blue landscape, white surf and wildlife floating through my mind. there are so many places to go, so many people i haven’t met yet. don’t you know only fools are satisfied?

Advertisements